Mad Hatter Tales of A Weasel
by xjust.like.thatx
Summary: Ginny Weasley is finally trying to get her claws...well, hands on Mr. Harry Potter. The only problem? When her supposed Best Friend Hermione I just have a stick up my butt Granger gets in the way. Comedy, AU, PRE HBP
1. The Turnips Are Coming

-Welcome to my Ginny Weasley fic.

I am not all that great of a writing and I admit it – but I do try. And this fic is supposed to be funny and insane, and I hope it hits the nail on the head. And the readers. Well, not really, but that would hurt. But, mmhmm, Let me get started.

You may call me Reb. Got it? No cutesey little nicknames – unless I know you well enough? Good.

I like criticism, but don't over do it, please. I would enjoy tips, pointers, etc. But don't say "this sux i h8 u n u shud di since u said my stori sucked111!" Yeah. No "revenge" things. Give me tips - sandwich it. Good thing, bad thing, good thing. Yeah. But, I don't care. I WOULD like to know any grammatical errors, or comma errors. I MAKE A LOT OF THOSE. Ellie, I'm leaving that mainly up to you. -winks-

Okay, enough about me. You're hear to read and enjoy, or diss me. But don't diss me, please.

Rules

1.Don't diss me or the fan fiction

This Is PRE HBP. Not a rule. It is pre Half Blood Prince and is Alternate Universe.

All right. With all of that out of the way, let me move on with the fic. Perhaps you were interested with the title, no? But, alas, the title took me forever to come up with, so don't make fun of it.

Let me go through the title.

Mad Hatter Tales from a Weasel.

As you may guess – Mad Hatter is crazy. And also, by the resemblance to Harry, it thus represent him. I guess

Weasel is obviously a Weasley. Ginny.

If you hate her – giver her a chance in this fic. She is quite different then the books

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..Prologue

**THE TURNIPS ARE COMING.**

Welcome to the complicated inner workings of my brain. Or mind- not that I've got one anyways.

Or was that sanity?

Anywho, I must get on with my story, or life, as those with more pluckage in the mind call it.

Pluckage in the mind? Ahh well, at least I can admit my sanity disappeared. I might not be willing to say that it never existed, but, as they say, another day, another confession.

Or at least that is what I say. ON TO THE STORY, as Lena would say, Lena being the insane accomplice in the everyday lives of Hogwarts. We call ourselves the Sane's. Because we aren't. That actually came up in second year when Michael Rennington called me crazy- surprised when I was not affected (surprised was he to know it the truth) Lena shouted to the world that we were, in fact, sane, and the rest of the world was crazy. Michael then proceed to choke on his slice of vanilla cake (vile, flavor it is…a bean plant…hauntings of the inner mind) and spit it all over Harry Potter, the handsome devil, making him leap up in horror. Lena then proceeded to shout "ARISE TO THE DEVILS WARRIORS," making me ponder if she even has less sanity than me.

Then again, she shoves her thirteen siblings into closest when boredom haunts her, so I find the answer to my question upon my feet, on a welcome mat, screaming "YES, YES!"

Anyways, onto my enchanting tale of my sixth year at Hogwarts- the worst of them all, as they say, inbetween testing years- which I find completely and utterly insane, as, well, me, considering there are no tests. Why, might you ask? No tests for goodness sake, and as I have been boding over my O.W.L. grades yet to arrive, I feel as joyous as to dance in the rain wearing nothing but a house elf's tea cozy for joy of no tests this year! And the raindrops will be screaming freedom, freedom, freedom! But, alas, I shall not go so, as to what my little Harry might think, who is, by the way entering his seventh year.

Alas, he shall not be the most tolerable person now, considering his NEWT's, but, then again, who wouldn't go insane? Just look at Percy…well, don't. He's not that attractive, trust me and my curiosity- and his kissing looked like nothing spectacular. Then again, about his NEWT's, he was insane before…I mean, he liked eating his turnips for dinner.

Honestly- turnips are about the most crazy food I have ever met- you might think we would love, but alas, you think wrong, as you often might! Turnips are the enemy, I cry, the enemy! Loving them is like loving Draco Malfoy dancing in a tea cozy!

Now that, is disturbing. Almost as disturbing as Percy singing in a shower. Almost as disturbing as watching that incredibly hot and irresistible boy who lived dance around in his nuddy pants!

Well, actually, that last one might not be so bad.

So, signing out for the night…or whatever it may be…until pen meets paper, and pigs fly, Ginny is out.

For the night. A peck from the chicken beak, and I am off to sleep.


	2. Morning Time is Insane Time

**Notes**

** MarauderWorshiper - Thanks for the bumps! I hope you have a great new year, and thank you for reading my story! I'm glad you like it so far.**

** krissygurl - I know it was short, but the chapters get long - there are a few short segments ahead, but I'll put them together, no worries. I just wanted that to get it known, and post the prologue, even though it's short. Don't worry, the posts will be longer now.  
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**myangelofmercy - thanks so much! I feel honored to have you as a reader. I used to have an account her, but I started this new one. I will have some more stories soon, so look out! Also - since you are the first reviewer, I am dedicating this chapter to you!**

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**Morning Time is Insane Time.**

Thinking of my inner-most feelings while mum tries having a go at getting me to see some whack-a-do muggle film she's been wanting to see.

Puh-lease. She wants an excuse to leave the house- I, however, need to make myself absolutely hottalicous for the special occasion.

Excuse me. Rewind, Backwards, sdrawkcaB, whatever your supposed to say when you wanna go back and take back what you said…

Did I just say, or utter, the vile word, hottalicous? I believe I did, the horrors upon that love can make you do…it's vile really.

Like, this one time, when I was about five, I liked this kid named Sandy- what a horror to have a name liked that really…without taste I was…I couldn't believe I hadn't teased him for being a dog, actually..Anyways, I liked this scrawny posh headed snot bag named Sandy.

You can already tell that something didn't go right, eh? Am I using…what muggles call…foreshadowing. Anyways, if I'm not screw it. There's a reason I decided to drop muggle studies this year.

Anyways, in declaring my snotty little kid nose love for him, I picked some flowers for him- some dandelions and without my knowing, Fred and George the little scoundrels, (and role models, now that I think about it), put some sort of swiss cheese, or something else equally as gross…any type of cheese for that matter, all over the flowers, with a vile smell.

I, being a stupid one myself, picked up the flowers, and gave them to him- not knowing the scrawny little hoe bags taste for unliving things- so he took a big bite, and upon tasting the cheese- vile thing- he turned into a large ostrich, and then resorted back to human form.

He being muggle, shrieked at me in the loudest tone, and ran off. I sat there, staring at the stupid yellow flowers, thinking.

Then, I thought it was all my fault. Stupid me, it took me three years to realize that it wasn't the flowers, and after that, up till last year, to find out that it wasn't the cheese that had done that. It was a charm.

But the little snot faced doofus shouldn't have eaten them anyways…or maybe so. He looked better as an ostrich.

And he really shouldn't have eating the flowers.

But I was faced with years of torture and taunts from the scrawny idiot, until, two years back, I had gotten up the nerve to slug the littler jerk upside the head. That shut him up. For a few days, actually.

I really should send his parents an apology.

And smack Fred and George, since it was all their fault in the first palce. But then again, it does serve as a laugh now.

ANYWAYS, I really need to…er…make myself look attractive (SEE! HA! SEE WHAT I DID, LOVE! TAKE THAT FOR MELTING MY BRAIN!), for the dear little Harrykins…I'm not going to even comment on that one.

But he and Hermione (if she ever touches Harry she'll be lying dead in the street, as those muggles say…whatever a street is needed for). But I know that won't be happening now, since I have known that she and my brother have been making googly eyes at each other for years, although each of them are too dense too admit it. The complex minds of two stupid teenagers too blind to see their love for one another.

Wait, I shouldn't comment. That would be hypocritical.

But, to add further thought to the Hermione factor, I'll just tell her that my brother is hot, and he has a great mind, and she should just go ahead and do her business, because in his scary little mind (quite empty, I'd imagine) because he's been thinking about it, and desiring it for years. I wouldn't mind.

WITH HARRY.

The thoughts of incest with Ron are unbearable. Undesirable.

I'd at least pick Bill. Or Charlie.

Back to non-illegal thoughts…or at least I think it's illegal, I'd hope it to be illegal.

Experimenting with it would be interesting…yet wrong, don't get my perverted little sixteen year old mind wrong.

Anywhoooooo, back to the Harry radar.

He's coming today. At two. Which is only like…only an half an hour away?

Oh my, amid all my mothers begs a pleas, and the not-so-complicated inner workings of my mind, time has gone awry, and seems to be shacking it's stupid skinny little butt in my face shrieking that I shall be ugly for the boy who lived!

Trust me to sleep in till one thirty in the afternoon.

* * *

He is here, he is here! Only inches away are those lips so red, so easy to kiss as I have so often daydreamed about. 

Only there is no way in hell I will do so, since my big thuggish (as if…) over protective over bearing motherly pregnant brother would shoot Harry. Even if it means the death of us from Lord You-Know-Who got his undies in a bundle.

Wait a minute…how come no one has ever thought of using those muggle gun contraptions that I actually listened and learned about in muggle studies (go me) to kill Lord I got a squirrel up my but, and no one has bothered to remove it from birth.

I'll have to bring that up with Harry next time I see him. Although I would prefer to be in a romantic liplock with the lustfull ever-so-lovely boy that will shoot the lord that needs to remove the elevator shaft from his arse.

But alas, Ron would then shoot me seventy two times in the head, and Harry eighty three times- if his water had not broken yet. For his cute little wannabe baby with Hermione. Ron, of course, would carry the child till it's birth and it entered to this world distorted from the C-section. Ron being so motherly and protective and all.

I wonder how people don't know me for the pervert I am. Except for Lena.

But she has actually chosen what candle she'll use when losing virginity. If that ain't hopefull, or perverted, I don't know what is.

I'm still deciding between green and red.

Green would match Harry's eyes. Red my hair.

And a brown candle for the eyes is just gross. Who know's what type of smell it'd give off.

But no, Harry's too busy thinking about saving the word from Lord Ugly Face denying me from satisfaction, to let me fully think it out.

But, anyways, for dinner, which mum is calling a casual affair (I THINK NOT!), I am still deciding between the short ripped black Hogwarts robes, or those muggle jeans and top.

I'd love to see Ron give birth to his baby, so I'll go with the short black robes.

I've never witnessed a birth. It'll be my first.

Ahh, mum is calling for dinner, where I'll get to see the pregnant twit, the father, and the oh-so-adorable- boy who nearly killed squirrel butt. Fun.

But first, the robes. Thank god mum'll be busy getting everything ready, and dad late to see the full effect.

They'll barf up the nice cooked cow mum whipped up. Or cooked. Or whatever.

* * *

There is a U.F.O. that mum has entitled veal, on my dinner plate. I'm surprised it hasn't grown legs, and gone over to snog the other creepy disgusting things that are illegally called meat. 

This is disgusting. Vile. I can't believe Harry is actually taking a bite of it – I truly thought that we could be soulmates. Well, Ron is eating it to, and while I was in a mental state when I was two, I thought the same.

I have matured so much better than him. God.

This is sick-minded and disgusting – while I sit here, struck dumb, everyone else is digging in. They are, like, snogging there meat. Am I the only one that sees the true horrors, the vileness? Am I the only one that senses that it is trying to take over the world? Nearly barfing on the pregnant mother's dish – would he care? Probably not, I got up, and shouted, "I REFUSE TO EAT MEAT THAT HAS A MIND OF IT'S OWN, AND LIPS TO SNOG."

Silence – except for all the snog-desperate-people slowly chewing on their meat. It was like their cud, for goodness sakes.

"Did you-,"

Cud. Cud. Cud. Cud. Cud. The loudest, obviously, was from the pregnant mother. His water would break and we would give birth to the…what had mum called it, veal, that's it. He was pleasuring himself so much.

Honestly. It disgusts me. Cud. Cud. Cud.

So I left them and there snogging ways. That. Was. Sick minded and disgusting! I don't know if I'll ever be able to eat meat again.

And they didn't even notice. Honestly.

I hope the U.F.O's pull them up into spaceships.

Except for Harry, of course.

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Okay guys, you know the drill - read and review. The more reviews, the more quickly I'll post. 

Also - I have some new stories or fanfictions coming (some one shot, some not), so watch out!


	3. Plan? What Plan?

I am so so so sorry for being gone this long! I had so much work. HUGE chapter. I'll combine two! Thank you for the bumps!

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**Chapter Two**

**Dancing Black Robes In the Midnight sky**

It is eight p.m., or as Lena would call it, Eight Seductress Sky (god is she weird…the reason were friends is because I, being so worthy and competitive, have taken up the challenge to out crazy her…so far, it takes a lot, and I still haven't succeeded, but one day!) and I am in bed.

So, loser carrot type (the evilest fruits…or are they vegetables…honestly, who cares, but carrots are the evilest of all evil types of those thingy magiers of evilness haunt me in my nightmares, although they are not as bad as turnips, the vile things…imagine being called a carrot head…with those overbearing ego-eccentric rabbits DYING to eat you, god help me, and tell me my mind is simply unhinging again…) head is sitting her bed, staring at her window, and nibbling some, not so disgusting but still quite up there type of chocolate cake. I really wonder what has gotten into mum these day. Anyways, I'm eating this vile chocolate cake, and staring out the window, in the short of it. At 8 Seductress of the Sky, or p.m., whatever yours sanity may be. (Mine being close to none.)

That's when I see it- the thing that would break my heart into one thousand little shards, and kill me slowly by the jabbing that they did to force themselves back into my chest, so I could live…god I need a therapist.

There, in the midnight of the black sky was an ego-tripping bunny! Nah, just joshin' you, whatever that may mean…Honestly, if you think I'm crazy, try meeting those Americans! But anyways, there was Harry, twiling something about, and he was dancing in what seemed to be his nuddy pants.

Except for the black robes he was wearing – nearly got you there, didn't I?

Anywho, that thing, the twit he was twirling around was…that backstabbing little twit Pregnant stupid twit bthe second (not Ron)/b, Hermione Bloody Jane I'm such a good two shoes except when snogging The boy who nearly killed squirrel brain butt head Granger.

And then they started doing such. Not killing squirrel brain butt head, no, snogging, in the middle of my driveway or grassy lawn place. Technically, it's my mums, but who cares when my soulmate is snogging my ex best friend (after Lena) twit head pregnant poo head and I can't remember the rest of her nickname. I couldn't believe this- my life was screeching to a horrific halt and I nearly crashed.

Except not really.

But, anyways, my life felt over. Why would he choose that umbrella up my butt twit over me? Sure, she was his friend…and nice…and smart…and I was his best friends little sister…and a carrot –shiver- head, and well, crazy, I began to ponder the situation.

Who wouldn't choose her? Supposedly, thanks to Miss. Umbrella butt's help, Harry didn't think that I liked him anymore. And- oh dear god in the heavens with chocolate pudding above…was I thinking of a moral? I might as well use a gun contraption now.

Or strangle myself with one of dad's cords…or plugs…god help the little dear. Finally, the two twits…or the twit pregnant whatchamacallit and gorgeous Harry went inside, to their rooms.

And then, I remembered that Hermione was sharing a room for me. DEAR GOD I MUST LOCK THE DOOR FROM THE TWIT. I pounced up out of bed, the vile chocolate cake being tossed into the air and landing with a splat, oh sweet satisfaction, on her bed, and ran to the door.

BAM. Something was being slammed hard against the door. Was she for goodness sakes drunk? Or, was my worst horror coming true? Were they…

Dribble. Dribble. Wet. Wet. Wet.

Yes, confirmed. They, stab me with a ballpoint pen (well don't…that would hurt, wouldn't it…or at least I think it would)…then, to my horror, with my ear pressed against the door, it slowly opened.

Nooooo!

I leaped towards the door, diving for my bed.

Except I landed on Hermione's bed. With the chocolate cake. No joined with pretty t-shirt to form Chocolate Shirt. Edible when starving in the dessert- warning, due to vile taste, smell, and look of poo, beware of death approaching at your doorstep sooner than planned.

Lying chest down on the poo resembling chocolate cake, god knows I should have said no when mum brought it up to me, Hermione and Harry walked in, as Harry gave her a final kiss goodnight. Right in front of me.

Twit traitor but still extremely hot guy kissed pregnant girl two! Who was meant for my brother! News flash. He did in front of me, as she sort of giggled.

And trust me, he looked like a good kisser. Better than how Percy looked. And Dean. And Michael. And Seamus. And Pigwideon. From Experience. All except Percy of course. As I said, my incest choice would now be Bill.

God, I need to fix that boredom issue.

But then, Hermione smiled a warm smile in my direction. "Thanks, Gin, for letting me use your bed."

And then she got into my bed. She. She got into MY bed. She got INTO my bed. THE TWIT!

And then she chose to switch the light off. And I was chest down on the chocolate also known as the poo cake.

Brilliant. Bloody Brilliant.

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**Chapter Three**

**Letters for Minstrels.**

I hate her. I just had the absolute worst night of my life, minus that time I had to share a bunk with Percy. The horrors.

Chocolate cake was absolutely everywhere – and I shall not elaborate.

Just…Eurgh.

Showered. Me, actually shower? Haha, it's just a joke. Or so you think…

Anyways, I have braided my hair, and today I am going to try to be normal, to see if I can possibly attract the gorgeous boy.

I know, my head is full of him. But it's summer.

So, for a plan…I'll need potatoes, a muggle copy machine, one of dad;s plugs, and that vile chocolate poo cake.

Non, je suis a joshin' vous. Je smarter than…er…that.

Eh. I'll have to inform mum and dad that those francaisvous lessons were a farce. Maybe spainsho wouldo haveio been-o better-o

Or-o Not-o…

Ahh, must go demise on my plan. Maybe, gasp, the horror of all horrors, it might involve normalness.

Or the enemy, as Lena would say. Gosh I miss her.

Now that I ponder Lena's theories, it occurs to me that the normal are the enemy, but aren't we the normal ones and everyone else cra-

Oh god, dear god in the marigolds above, I making my head hurt. I need help for the plan, and the only help to get from to actually listen to is from an insane one.

Not from my family, mind you. I look somewhat sane next to them…Er, I take that back. Pregnant woman is un-proudly sane. We should dismember him.

Anywho, I should really send a letter to Lena, asking for help. And to come over. But I'll have to ask mum first.

Padding like a small little duckling I wandered down to tell her.

Skipping ahead a tomato, and hour, a fight, and a few thrown veggies, she said yes. Off to write that letter.

_iDear Lena,_

_The fox out of the hole said Abba to plans for you at the Crazy Evil Veggetable._

_At 5 Seductress of the sky, a days time from receiving this hickabob._

_Kogs and Hisses, _

_Ginbottle_

_S.T. Plans for handsome head tomorrow shall cometh from the pens of insanity and beyond hope. Funsies./i_

God do I love her and our secret talk. No one in their right mind, or for that matter, out of it, could decipher that message.

Cheers.

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**Chapter Four.**

**Drop the Poo!**

I woke up to a reply from Lena the Lean – not.

Trust her to take forever. She probably got strangled up in the string I tied the letter to Pig with, the crazy, but oh-so-adorable girl. Wow that sounded wrong.

But off the slimy cheese bucket called Hermione I'm such a retarded cheating lying snogger of the nincompoop who nearly killed squirrel head, but failed Jane what a stupid middle name Granger scoop, there seems to be none.

Miss Prim Panties seems to be snoring her ugly Harry snogging head till like, forever.

Or, wait, forget that. The princess is awaking with a horrific yawn. I'm surprised her fangs that should normally be teeth on a normal human, aren't sharper.

I bet you she flattens them, you know, with a file thing.

Or gets her parents to do magic stuff since they're denty-whats-its. Either way, I hate the stupid ugly girl that used to be my friend and that knew that I liked him but lied to him for a snog Hermione what a retarded name Jane ugly headed middle name Granger.

How she annoys me to no end of the anger meter – but now that anger shall never end. I hope a bird-

Oh my, I must be psychic! Sitting on what should be Hermione's now slightly brown sheets, in flies Pigwideon, and takes a dump right on her head. She doesn't move, just stirs as slowly slides down her face. How could the idiot not tell?

Anywho, there's a letter tied to he's beak…the idiot.

I quickly untie it.

_Evil VeggieFruit Head,_

_Coming Bye at 6 Seductress of the Night to this very even. _

_Plans major lajor for prim priss._

_Lena Lean._

How is she not lovable?

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**Chapter Five**

**Ignorez Vous**

In the deep fathoms of my mind, or empty space in my head, I have been thinking that we need someone so crazy- yet with the tiniest bit of sanity to help. Someone that is my other best friend from all eternity, well, okay, fifth year. Someone that had sprayed Slytherin sucks into their hair to make a protest.

Someone that hates her given name, Krista – well, who blames her. We need our very own Kris Walker.

Senora Insane, as I call her, needs to come here. The only trick – fooling my mother's mind for her to say yes.

This should be as easy as eating that poo cake I was having on the worst night of my night.

Which, might I remind you, is not a walk in the backyard. Especially with all those stupid gnomes.

Anuwhowhowhowho- I must alas ask her, a tromp tromp tromp and I am down the stairs, swooooosh, slide in front of her.

"mumcankriscomeherplease" I pleaded, ever so eloquently.

"Hmm, dear?" she said, using a feather dusting some dusty something or other of dustiness from the land of dust.

"Imeanpregnanimeanronhastwofriends." I said, the bee-a-u-ti-ful words, just flowing of my tongue.

"Slower, darling, or you'll choke on your tongue."

It then magically occurred to me that telling her about Kris two weeks ago might not have been so smart. Not so smart at all.

"Um…Can. I. Invite. A. Friend. Over. Ronhasa – he has two friends!"

She sighed, "Who?"

SQUEEEALCH! A fail in my monsterously smartolicous plan!

"Um…Er…Krissy- she's this really sweet, nice, adorable," gag me! "girl…who is kind and wonderful and not troublesome!"

I lied like a lying lawn chair lying …er…down? And then the best thing ever happened.

No, Harry didn't come downstairs and makeout with me with passion unknown to anything before. But, she said yes. Major ultra yayness! Time to write a letter to her.

_Krista, my dearest darling._

_My house. Tomorrow of the day of the year. Fun times, reply with a yes. Plans for Scarface and Miss I have an umbrella up my arse. Fun times._

_Carrot Evilness._

Fun shall it be!

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I have decided on my punishment to Harry and Hermione.

I must seduce Harry to be mine! Well…that's not really punishment, is it? Just like the weak outlining of a plan sure to crash into a thousand smithereens and stab me in the eye, and the arms and cause me to bleed the pain of one thousand deaths while I scream in agony and then I shall catch fire from the burning of the horrible plan and I will be burnt and ugly and-

God I've got to stop doing that.

But anyways- my big smart person I rock so hard plan is to ignorez him. He'll be wanting me anysecond.

Some hair flicks should do well.

But yes, it'll need development when Lean head is here.

Ah, speak of the Leanster. She is!

Funness.

The stair case is empty when I race down it. It is time! TIME! TIME! OUR PLAN SHALL COME ALIVE AND RULE ALL!

Cue the evil laughter and scary music, please.

Dun. Dun dun dun dunnnnn. Think that muggle musical with that Butler dude. God I need to get it out of my head.

Funness to the stunnness, fabulous Lena the Lean is here!

As I flung open the door to the borrow, she did our traditionally beaver movments – the teeth, and noise, and everything.

I, not wanting to be outdown, saluted her my traditional chipmunk.

It's so great to have her here!

And the havoc we shall wreak…especially on pregnant head.

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_Dearie Head,_

_Call me Krista and die. Heading over tomorrow. 'Scapin' the rents. Joyfulness of loveliness. _

_Smurf-Kris_

She's coming! She's Coming!

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**Chapter Six**

**LaxLaxyLaxLax**

With Lena here, everything seems better! The sky is green, the clouds are purple, the grass is orange – everything is back to normal.

But everything will not be at it's sharpest until Senora Insane comes. I can't wait. I hope she's dyed her hair again.

But mum'll have a heart attack.

Lena and I, have already had goodtimes, such as making Hermiones toothbrush spit cow you know what, making the teddy I'm so ugly bear (but not really…it's quite cute – ergh) poo all the time, putting these muggle things Lena calls laxatives, in her food. Seeing her race to the bathroom all the time is quite funny.

And the really funny thing is it's just day one. Today- pooh bear, the child maniac bear golden thing that is obsessed with honey, and wanted by all the muggle children is on Lena's mind.

Tomorrow- toothpaste or who knows.

But one thing I do know is that I can't stop laughing. Harry hasn't stopped standing next to the bathroom all day.

It must smell quite horrible for his nose.


End file.
